Redemption
by dragonflybeach
Summary: Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to forgive yourself. Or maybe it's to feel again.


A/N - this story contains non-graphic mentions of rape. You've been warned.

* * *

"We've come to a plan." Shacklebolt told him across the desk, nodding to the two aurors that brought him there. The men stepped back discreetly and left. "We've seen pensieve memories and heard testimony from your parents under veritaserum. We've seen Severus Snape's memories. We've heard testimony from others as well. Some of your Slytherin classmates and even Harry Potter himself. We know you did not willingly follow Voldemort. You did so out of fear of immediate, mortal danger to yourself and your family. So we're going to offer you a deal. Sort of a unique punishment. You have five years that you will make restitution for your crimes. We had a hard time sorting that out, as to how, exactly, you could make restitution. Dumbledore is dead. Katie Bell and Ron Weasley both may have nightmares about what happened, but there was no lasting physical damage. I daresay Ron has plenty of worse things to have nightmares about than what you did to him. But Arthur Weasley brought to our attention that there was one of your victims who could use your help. We've spoken with her as well, and she knows that you were not a willing participant in what you were forced to do to her. She's willing to give you a chance to earn your penance."

"Lovegood." Draco answered tonelessly.

Shacklebolt nodded. "So here's the deal. You work for Lovegood for five years. You do whatever she needs of you. You don't hurt her, or anyone else. You stay away from any and all _appearances_, even, of Death Eater activities. She will be your probation officer as well as your employer. If at the end of five years, she feels that you are not a danger to others, yourself, or the community, you are free."

"What if I refuse?" Draco asked.

"Then you will be remanded to Azkaban until your trial." Shacklebolt's response was blunt. "You're looking at a minimum of eight to ten months before you'll even come up for trial. Likely over a year. And then whatever sentence the Wizengamot imposes on you, and you will be a convicted Death Eater for the rest of your life, with all the lifestyle restrictions that imposes. You accept this deal, complete your five years successfully, and there will be nothing on your record."

"I don't have much choice, do I?" Draco crossed his arms across his chest, but the Acting Minister recognized the gesture as one of nervousness, rather than defiance.

"Why don't you speak with Miss Lovegood and see what she's expecting from you before you make your decision?" the older man's dark eyes softened.

Draco nodded, willing himself not to bite his lip.

He followed Shacklebolt out of the office and two doors down the hall, where the man opened another door. Luna Lovegood stood by the window, looking out. Draco took several deep breaths and willed himself not to shake as he walked into the room.

"Hello, Draco." she said softly in the same voice she had always greeted him.

She turned to face him, an uncertain look in her eyes, and Draco felt as if he had been kicked in the chest. He couldn't draw a breath. He stumbled backwards in shock until he bumped into the very large, very solid form of one auror turned Acting Minister of Magic.

He had, after the night they forced him to hurt her, locked away the memories, and only once had he allowed himself to think about it. The night he was arrested. He had imagined potential lasting damages he could have inflicted on her. He was positive she had nightmares, and he was the star of them. She would probably be afraid of being attacked again. Afraid of men. Afraid of the dark. She might even stop humming and skipping and babbling about nargles and such.

But never once, not even for a heartbeat, had the thought crossed his mind that what he had done to her could cause Luna Lovegood to have a baby.

"Now you understand part of the reason Luna needs some help." Shacklebolt said softly.

"You must be mad." Draco managed to choke out, still unable to tear his eyes away from Luna's swollen middle.

"No, actually, the Wizengamot had a full psychological evaluation done on me at St Mungos when I agreed to this." she replied pleasantly.

"This is the reason you had a psych eval as well." Shacklebolt said behind him. Draco realized he was still leaning against the man and stepped forward. "The mind healers wanted to make sure that bringing you face to face with the consequences of your actions in Voldemort's service wasn't going to send you around the bend. They believe this will actually be a positive experience for you. They believe that you've compartmentalized the things you were forced to do, and helping Luna will force you to deal with them. It will be a condition of your probation that you participate in any and all recommended therapeutic services prescribed by your assigned mind healer."

"You can't possibly think this is a good idea." Draco shook his head. "Don't you know what I _did_ to her? She's going to kill me in my sleep." he turned to look at Shacklebolt. "That's why you're doing this, aren't you? No trial, no Azkaban, get rid of the Death Eater."

Shacklebolt rolled his eyes. "She will not kill you in your sleep. You don't even have to sleep there, unless she needs you to for some specific reason. You're going to work for her, not be her slave. And if she kills you, then you won't be there to help her out."

"What do you mean, work for her?" Draco spluttered.

"Well, first of all, my house was destroyed when the Death Eaters tried to capture Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I need some help rebuilding and all that. I'm not able to do a lot by myself right now." Luna patted her stomach absently. "And then I want to get The Quibbler going again. I'll need some help running the magazine, especially in about two and a half months."

"Then your ... leave ... will be over in a month or so and you'll be back to work full time, right?" Draco asked.

"Well, I'll be back to work as much as possible, but obviously I won't be able to work as much while I'm caring for a newborn." she shrugged.

"You're keeping it?" he gasped, wide eyed.

"Yes." she answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm supposed to work for you helping out with that ridiculous magazine for five years?" Draco flared. "Where is your father? Why isn't he helping?"

"He's in St Mungos." Luna answered softly. "They believe he might be there for a while. He's not dealing well with everything that happened, you see."

"You are insane too and should probably be locked up as well." Draco sneered. He turned to look at Shacklebolt. "And you, for coming up with this idea."

Shacklebolt shrugged. "Five years working for Lovegood, or take your chances with Azkaban. The standard sentence for rape is twenty years, not to mention the other things you've done, like attempted murder. Did you ever ask anyone what your Aunt Bellatrix was like before she went to prison?"

Draco paled.

"Why don't you go talk to your parents and see what they think?" Shacklebolt herded him down the hall to the small room where his parents had been left to wait. They had both successfully avoided prison, Narcissa for her lie to Voldemort, and Lucius for giving the aurors all the information he had on any and all Death Eaters and their activities. Draco had been the last of the family to learn his fate.

They both leaped to their feet and hugged him when he came into the room.

"I'll leave you to talk." Shacklebolt told Draco. "I'll come back in half an hour to hear your decision."

"What decision?" Lucius asked as the door closed.

"They're offering me a plea deal to avoid prison." Draco replied, sinking down onto the institutional sofa.

"You have to take it." his mother rushed before even hearing the deal.

"Draco, this is wonderful." his father breathed.

"Do you have any idea?" Draco cried. "Do you know what they want me to do?"

He explained the terms of the probation to them, not understanding why they didn't see the disaster in the making. Until he told them the one piece of information he realized they were lacking.

"Luna is six and a half months pregnant."

His parents looked horrified.

"That poor girl." his mother murmured.

"Surely it wasn't ... " his father began, the color draining from his face as he remembered what happened and his role in it.

"I did it." he confirmed. "The night I was ordered to punish her."

"I know people." Lucius said softly. "I can arrange for the child to be adopted quietly by a good family."

"She wants to keep it." Draco huffed.

"You're not ... I mean, you can't ... This is most ... " Lucius Malfoy was completely flustered.

"Then you will help her." Narcissa replied firmly.

"I don't want anything to do with her kid." Draco shook his head angrily. "If she wants to keep it, it's all hers. I will not be that child's father."

"You owe her." Narcissa's lips went thin, and Draco knew the discussion was over.

* * *

Draco made sure Luna was aware of his intentions or lack thereof the next day when they met to finalize the arrangements.

"That," he pointed to her baby bump. "Is not and will never be my child. That is a biological accident from an action I was forced to perform by the Dark Lord. My father can arrange for it to be adopted and go to a good home. It will be pampered and cared for all of its life. But if you think you're going to keep it, don't expect me to be any kind of parent."

"This," she repeated his emphasis, but lovingly rather than with his angry tone. "Is my prize for surviving my imprisonment in your cellar. _This_ is my baby. He may have been created by a horrible act of war, but he is pure and innocent and not at fault for anything the Dark Lord did."

"You heard me, Lovegood." Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "It's not mine. I will deny that kid until my dying breath."

"As you wish." she smiled pleasantly.

Shacklebolt came into the room with their contract. Draco would be allowed to use magic while working on the house. A spell was placed on him to prevent him from using any magic against her or the baby. The spell would also allow Luna to say the word 'gumdrops' if she felt threatened in any way. Draco would immediately be petrified and the aurors notified. Any threats against Luna or the child, verbal or physical, would result in the immediate revocation of Draco's probation and remand him to Azkaban. He would not be allowed to bring any of the Malfoy house elves to Luna's house, because _Draco_ needed to work for her, not one of his elves.

"Minister," Luna said sweetly. "I do believe Draco is having more of a time dealing with things than he has let on. I think he should see a mind healer first thing tomorrow."

Draco scowled at her. She just continued to smile.

* * *

As Luna requested, Draco was off to St Mungos first thing the next day, to spend three hours telling the horse faced mediwizard that he was perfectly fine. He was not hurting over what happened to him. He was not feeling guilt. He just wanted to be left alone and get the damn sentence over with so he could go on with his life.

"Same time next week." the mindhealer replied blandly.

He flooed from the hospital to the Leaky Cauldron, where he was to meet Luna and accompany her back to her ruined home.

He found his mother having lunch with Luna.

"I was just getting to know my grandson's mother." Narcissa smiled but her eyes were a warning.

"That is not your grandson." Draco snarled. "It is not my child."

"Well, if it's not your child, then you have no say in whether or not it's my grandson." she smirked at her son and turned to Luna. "Luna, may I be your child's grandmother?"

"That would be splendid." Luna smiled. "My own mother passed away, so he won't have a grandmother unless you would like to be his grandmother."

Draco flung himself into a chair, muttering under his breath about damn Slytherins.

He picked at his food until Luna finally asked if he was ready to go. He followed her out into the alley, where she took him to the ruins of her home by sidealong apparation.

There wasn't much left.

"Lovegood, it would probably be better to level it and start over." he shook his head.

She didn't answer, so he turned to look at her. She was biting her lip, sniffing back tears.

"It's just a house." he said gently. "We can build you a better one."

"It's where I lived with my parents." she whispered. "It's all I have left of them."

He sighed, cursing himself for a fool before the words even came out of his mouth.

"We'll fix it."

They spent the next two days sifting through the rubble, setting aside anything salvageable. Then Draco spent three weeks systematically removing debris and reinforcing whatever parts of the house were still standing. He finally was able to slowly start repairing the house, so as not to damage what parts were still good.

Luna wanted to be on site as much as possible, but Molly Weasley, whose spare bedroom Luna was currently occupying, and Narcissa both fussed over her being in the sun so much in her condition. The scarred Weasley son ended up bringing a tent and setting it up, so Luna could go inside, rest, and work on articles for the magazine while Draco worked on the house.

It took Draco over a month to rebuild the house. It wasn't the same, because the foundation had been damaged and parts of the upstairs wouldn't have been stable if it had been rebuilt to the same floorplan. The ground floor was expanded, but the upper floor retained their round shape. Luna was happy with it.

By this time, Luna was only weeks away from delivering. Narcissa arrived the day after Draco finished the house and asked which room was going to be the nursery. Luna led her up the stairs, where Mrs. Malfoy began unpacking shrunken parcels from her purse. She returned them all to regular size.

"Now, Draco." his mother smirked sweetly again. "First you're going to return all of Luna's furniture to its proper place. Then we're going to see what else she needs. Then you're going to put together all the baby furniture and get the nursery ready."

"Fine." he huffed.

His mother could live vicariously all she wanted. That did not mean Luna's brat was anything to him.

It took Draco a week to unpack, assemble, and put away everything, including the workroom with the new printing equipment for the magazine. He saved the baby's room for last. After all, the brat wasn't here to use it yet.

Luna came in as he put the finishing touches on the nursery. His mother had gone all out, fully furnishing, equipping and decorating the room with only the finest from the most exclusive wizard baby shops around the country. She reached up to spin the mobile of flying Quidditch players with a golden snitch hanging in the middle. The bedding and wallpaper border also had a Quidditch theme.

"Your mother was very kind to do all this." Luna said, reaching out to fluff the cushion on the rocking chair.

"Don't get me started on that." he huffed. It had not escaped his notice that his mother had purchased no less than _three_ toy dragons.

"There is one thing I always wondered." she rested her hands on the dresser. "Why did they make _you_ do it? Why not someone else?"

"Because you knew me from school." he answered, unable to look at her. "The Dark Lord thought you would expect that kind of action from one of the older Death Eaters. That you would be more inclined to trust me, and not expect me to do something like that. And _that_ would make it more mentally hurtful for you."

"Draco, I don't hate you, you know." she offered softly. "I know you didn't want to do it."

"You should hate me. But everyone knows you're loony." he snapped.

"You shouldn't hate you either."

He froze in the act of tightening the last screw on the changing table.

She didn't say anything else.

When he looked up, she was gone.

* * *

The house was finished just in time. Luna gave him the next day off after he finished the nursery. The day after that, he was awakened at 5am with aurors downstairs.

"I didn't do anything to her." he automatically protested. "I didn't even see her yesterday. She told me I could have the day off ... "

One of the aurors held his hands up. "We came to tell you she's gone into labor. She's at St Mungo's"

Narcissa thanked the aurors for coming, showed them out, and then turned to Draco. "Get dressed. We're going to the hospital."

"You can if you want. The kid is nothing to me, and if I was Luna Lovegood, I would be the last person I wanted at the hospital." he snorted.

"That didn't make sense." his mother glared at him. "But you _are_ going to the hospital."

"For what?" he asked. "She's the one having the baby. There's nothing I can do that will speed up or slow down the process."

"You're going in case you're needed." Narcissa snapped. "and that's final."

"Needed for what?" he continued to protest.

"I don't know, maybe a blood transfusion!" his mother snapped.

"Now you're the one not making sense." he fumed.

"You're going and that's final." his mother pronounced.

* * *

Luna had a short, easy labor with Narcissa holding her hand and encouraging her while Draco sat in the corner and scowled at his feet.

Just after 10 am, her baby boy came into the world, healthy in spite of being two weeks early, and weighing in at a respectable seven pounds.

Narcissa beamed and preened like she was the grandmother. Draco was dragged over to see the baby once he had been cleaned up and wrapped in a blanket. Narcissa had actually taken him by surprise, thrusting the child into his arms with instructions to hold the baby's head and all that.

"Isn't he beautiful, Draco?" Luna asked, a radiant smile on her face.

"No." Draco frowned. "He's all red and wrinkled. He looks like a grumpy little old man."

Luna laughed and held out her arms for her baby, which Draco was happy to give her.

"What do you think of calling him Matthew?" she asked, stroking the baby's bald head. "It was my grandfather's name on my mother's side."

"Whatever." Draco shrugged.

"Do you want Draco as his middle name?" she continued.

"No." he spat with a little more force than necessary.

"Is there some other name from your family you want him to have? Maybe your grandfather or an uncle or something?" she tilted her head and looked up at Draco.

"This is your kid, Loony." he growled. "You were the one who wanted to keep him. He's all yours. I voted for giving him away. He's nothing to do with me." He turned and stomped out of the room, as his mother and Luna sadly watched him go.

He returned the next morning to escort them home. Luna signed their discharge instructions, and he caught a glimpse of the name "Matthew D. Lovegood" on the parchment.

He turned to Luna when the mediwitch left. "You made his middle name Draco after all?" he grumbled.

"No." she shrugged. "I named him after someone who helped save his life. If we had stayed in your cellar much longer, your family would have found out and they probably would have killed him. His full name is Matthew Dobby Lovegood."

Draco shook his head. "I should have let you name him Draco."

* * *

Narcissa stayed with Luna overnight the first two nights after they came home from the hospital and came nearly every day after that.

"Give it up." Draco snapped at her on the third day. "I am not ever going to claim that brat as my kid."

"The house elves knew." Narcissa told him. "They knew and they were sneaking her extra food. I wonder what would have happened if we had known then."

"Auntie Bella would have gotten rid of the brat and we'd all have been better off." Draco huffed and stormed up to the magazine workroom.

Luna's Quibbler was a bit different than her father's Quibbler. She still had articles on obscure wildlife, but there were also articles about current events, sports, entertainment, and wizarding life in general. Draco found that he actually enjoyed writing articles, especially if he had the chance to express his opinions. The process of typesetting, making everything fit on the pages without bunching it up too much or leaving gaping spaces was challenging and even a bit fun. Perusing the reader submissions, narrowing down which would or would not be published made him feel powerful. In short, Draco woke up every morning excited about going to work.

But he wouldn't have ever told Loony that.

For the most part, the little brat slept most of the time, so Draco didn't mind having him in the corner in his carrier. The first time he woke howling and Luna started to lift her shirt, however, was a different story.

At first he stared as she opened the front of her bra and started to line the brat up. The thought fluttered across Draco's mind that he hadn't touched her above the waist. He had his orders, and any extra touching just seemed ... he shook his head to snap himself out of it, and realized what he was looking at.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spluttered, clapping his hand over his eyes.

"Feeding the baby." she answered as it were obvious.

It probably should have been, actually.

"Not in here! I am not looking at your boobs while I'm trying to work! That's just ... ugh!" he shook his head, making a face of disgust.

"Nursing a baby is completely natural." her brow wrinkled as the brat continued to make his displeasure known.

"So is hemlock, and it kills people." Draco snapped.

"What does a poisonous plant have to do with nursing a baby?" Luna asked tilting her head.

"I don't know!" Draco threw his hands up, then went back to the article he was working on.

Luna turned her back to him. A moment later the crying was replaced by a smacking sound, and then silence.

"Is this all right?" she asked, her back still to Draco.

"I suppose." he huffed. "As long as I don't have to watch."

The mind healer had been pleased that Draco was satisfied with his work. But he kept trying to give Draco little activities and exercises to make him _feel_ something for a person, or even an animal. Draco went through the motions, but he never let anything make its way to his heart. It had been closed off long ago, and he wasn't about to open the door now.

* * *

By the time little Matthew was five weeks old, Draco thought he and Luna had the hang of this baby in the home/office thing. The kid seemed to have worked out his own schedule pretty well. Luna had to nurse him about every three and a half hours. He mostly slept other than that, but if he was awake for any extended period of time, usually in the mornings, Draco worked on the magazine while Luna played with the baby. She cooed to him and moved his hands and feet and recited nursery rhymes and blew raspberries on his tummy while Matthew mostly stared at her like she had lost her mind.

Draco did too.

She offered to let him hold the baby several times. He always said no. She eventually stopped asking.

Then it all changed. Suddenly the brat stopped seeing Luna as his parent, guardian, caregiver, and nurturer, and decided she was a walking all you can eat buffet. No sooner than she finished nursing him, put him in his crib, and came downstairs, he was howling to feed again.

Luna fretted that she was doing something wrong, or something was wrong with her milk. She probably wasn't producing enough, as she barely had time to eat between feeding sessions. Draco rolled his eyes and sarcastically offered to buy a cow, which probably wouldn't produce milk enough either, at the rate the brat was sucking it down.

In the end, he owled his mother on the third day of the spawn's non-stop gluttony when Luna was nearly dead on her feet from having been up half of the two previous nights. Narcissa swooped in, told them that this was perfectly normal, little Matthew was simply having a growth spurt. He would be constantly hungry for a few days or even a week, until his caloric needs slowed again, and he would be back on his regular routine.

"Luna needs some rest." she insisted, looking at Draco with the raised eyebrow that indicated the matter wasn't open for discussion.

"Well, yes, but her kid does not agree." Draco defended himself, not quite sure why he needed to.

"It's just that Matthew hasn't slept well the past few nights, between being hungry and being fussy." Luna said.

"I've told you before, that if you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to take care of your baby." Narcissa reminded. "You're going to take some Dreamless Sleep potion. Not even a full dose, if you don't want, but you need to get at least four hours of uninterrupted rest. Six would be better." she turned to Draco. "Remember when I told Luna to save some breast milk because she would need it later? Now is when we need it. I'll prepare a couple bottles so you can give them to the baby while she sleeps."

"Me?" he leaped to his feet. "Wait! What? No! I don't take care of the kid. I take care of other things so she can take care of the kid. She wanted the kid, she decided to keep it, it's all hers."

"As I recall, the conditions of your probation state that you help her with whatever duties she needs assistance with." Narcissa folded her arms at her son. "She needs your assistance with this. Someone has to help with the baby. He's too young to care for himself, obviously."

"Why can't you stay here and help with the brat?" he asked. "I've got a magazine to get to press and a ticket to the Quidditch match tonight."

"I have a prior obligation this evening." Narcissa informed him. "You'll just have to work around Matthew's demands, and you probably won't get to go to the Quidditch match tonight. The world won't end if you miss it."

"But... " he protested.

"Luna needs your help." Narcissa stared at him frostily. "If you don't stay here and help her, if she doesn't report you to the Ministry, I will."

He sighed, looking at Luna, who looked almost ready to drop on the spot.

Apparently his mother read his conciliation. "You remember how to hold his head, right?" Draco nodded. "Good. I'll get Luna settled upstairs."

Narcissa returned a few minutes later, kissing her son on the cheek on the way out. "You can do this, Draco. This is nothing compared to the things the Dark Lord asked of you." She crossed to the floo, calling out a reminder to burp the baby after feeding him, and then she was gone.

Surprisingly, the house stayed silent for a full hour and thirteen minutes after his mother left. Then of course, the brat woke and started to cry. Draco continued working on arranging the page, listening for Luna to get up and go to her baby.

He didn't hear anything, except the brat's cries getting louder.

Of course not. She had taken Dreamless Sleep. The child continued to scream at the top of his tiny lungs. Really, it was ridiculous. What could something that tiny, with such a limited world, have to carry on about? All that mattered to the brat was that he was warm and fed and his bottom changed on a regular basis, apparently.

Draco stood with a huff, and walked to the nursery. The problem was obvious as soon as he reached the crib. The brat was wet. Not just his nappy, but his clothes, and the sheet under him. Unsurprisingly, all the drinking the little monster had been doing had led to him unloading more urine than his diaper could hold. The kid continued to bellow out his fury. Which was absolutely, completely, ludicrous. That something this tiny should have such strong emotions over being wet. That a child who had never been told no in his life could throw a tantrum like this.

The baby had apparently realized someone was standing over the crib and howled even louder, if possible, kicking his feet and flailing his arms with his little face all scrunched up. Draco sighed, realizing it was going to be up to him to fix this if he wanted any peace and quiet. Indentured servant or no, Luna was going to owe him for this one, having to handle her child covered in urine. It could have been worse, of course. The first time Draco had crucioed Greg Goyle the wanker pissed himself, and Draco had to clean it up. That was much, much worse than whatever this little brat had produced. He carefully picked up the baby, frowning as he realized the damp back of the little ... whatever kind of outfit it was, was cold where it was wet. No wonder the little demon was carrying on to wake the dead.

But not his sleeping mother, obviously.

He cautiously settled the kid into the crook of one arm, making sure he wasn't going to fall, the other hand hovering near the kid's head to catch him if he made any sudden movement, before Draco slowly walked to the bathroom. He laid the baby on the counter, stripped off the soaked pajama sort of thing and his squishy nappy, and ran some warm water on a cloth. At least he didn't have to worry about washing the kid's hair. The little head was still as bald as it had been when he was born. He wiped the child, hoping he was getting the worst of the urine off. It would be much easier if he could tell where he was supposed to wash.

Hell, it would be easier if he could just magic the kid clean, warm, dry, and dressed. Draco wished he had bothered to read the book his mother had given him about child appropriate spells.

The brat was shivering now, and it made his continued wailing sound pitiful rather than angry. Draco laid the thickest towel on the counter, put the child on top of it, and awkwardly wrapped up the kid the best he could. The baby seemed to snuggle into the towel for a moment, sighed almost, then started right back up with his screeching. Draco carried him back into the nursery, laying him at the end of the crib where the sheet wasn't wet, while he plundered the drawers looking for clothes and a dry blanket. He found several little shirts that apparently snapped under the baby's bum, but they would have to be pulled over his head and Draco wasn't sure he could pull that off. He finally found some more of the little pajama things that fastened down the front like what the kid had been wearing. He selected what looked like the warmest and thickest one, taking it, a blanket, and the squalling infant over to the changing table.

It took two tries to get the diaper on right and three to snap the pajamas correctly, but Draco finally managed to get Luna's baby dressed and wrapped in a blanket. He picked the child up, afraid to leave the wiggly little creature on the table, as he wondered where to put him, since the crib was soaked. He looked around the room, and suddenly it dawned on him that everything had fallen silent.

He looked down at the kid, who made some sort of noise of contentment, and turned his head toward Draco's chest, smacking his lips. Now that he was dry and warm, the brat was hungry again.

Draco chuckled. "I'm not your mother, kid."

The little face turned to look at him crossly, eyes narrowed and lips curled into a sneer. The breath froze in Draco's throat.

The kid looked just like him.

Well, maybe not his features, although those eyes were tiny copies of Draco's own. The lips were obviously Luna's. The little cheeks were too round and the nose was too small to really look like either parent at this point.

But his expression was one Draco had seen thousands of times. In the mirror.

"Matthew." he whispered, trying out his son's name for the first time.

The baby's expression softened, looking at him with curiosity, if such a thing was possible in an infant barely over a month old.

Draco was suddenly struck, overwhelmingly, with the realization that this was his _son_. That half of whatever had made this child to grow in Luna's belly had come from him. He had never intended to bring this child into the world, but he had.

He had thought at times, before the war and Voldemort's return and the idea he wouldn't live long enough to get married, about creating his firstborn child. The fantasies were mostly fueled by the encouragement of some of the old portraits of Malfoy ancestors, who had been reminding him of his duty to marry well and produce an heir as long as he could remember. Especially old Septimus, his however-many-greats-grandfather, who had been offering unsolicited and rather graphic advice on pleasing witches years before Draco had any idea what the old lecher was on about.

Draco had imagined that he and his wife would be married several months, maybe even a year, before they started trying. Give them some time to get used to being a couple before they became a family. When they decided it was time, he and his wife would have a nice dinner, a little wine, or maybe some champagne. He would give her a few minutes' head start to go upstairs, and by the time he arrived, she would be lounging on their bed in the sexiest lingerie Midnight Witches had to offer. He would make love to his wife languidly. She would gasp and moan and cry out his name. He would roar in his completion and empty his seed into his wife's waiting body, and then fall asleep with his arm around her belly, as if guarding the newest generation of Malfoys.

He never thought his firstborn would be conceived on the filthy floor of the dungeon, with his father and Aunt Bella and _Voldemort_ watching, as he made Luna Lovegood cry not in pleasure but in pain and her blood coating both of them and desperately trying to think of anything and anywhere but here and now so he could finish this because even to him it felt like it was taking bloody forever and finally, _finally_, he came and he could withdraw from her and wanted to curl up in a ball and die or maybe just roll off into the corner and vomit anything that was left in his system which couldn't be much, because he had thrown up already when his father had told him what Lovegood's punishment was to be for the fact her father had printed something the Dark Lord didn't like.

But right this moment, he held in his arms the baby boy who was the proof that it had happened exactly that way. Luna was right. Their son was beautiful. That point shook Draco deeper than any of the other thoughts that had just ventured through his mind. That the ugly thing he had done to Luna that night had created something so beautiful and perfect. Matthew's beginning had been tainted by the Dark Lord, but the rest of his life would not. This child was their future. As Luna said, their son was their prize for surviving. He was pure and innocent and everything that was right about the world. Draco had created this child in horror and pain and blood, but he could make sure this child grew up in love and safety and happiness. This child was the instrument of his redemption, how Draco could atone for his sins in the war. Those tiny little fingers that were wrapped around his index fingers now would wrap around and hold together the shattered pieces of Draco's soul.

The tears frightened him, both with their suddenness and their ferocity. The grief tore out of him, as he wept for the baby born into a world at peace, who would hopefully never know the terror his parents had experienced. For the frightened young girl in the cellar, who was brave enough to look every day into the face of the living reminder of the worst experience of her life. For the young man who didn't have a choice, who had locked away his heart and never cared about anyone or anything again, after that night.

He cradled his son to his chest and sank to his knees, his body wracked with great shuddering sobs for several minutes until he realized little Matthew was making sounds of frustration and still smacking his lips and rooting at Draco's chest.

"Don't start squalling." he said softly to the baby, his voice hoarse and cracking in the aftermath of emotion. "Please don't start. Daddy will get you a bottle right now."

Draco carried his son to the kitchen where they found one of the bottles Narcissa had left under a stasis charm. The child latched on and sucked like he hadn't eaten in a week.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" Draco asked, as he carried his son back to the nursery and settled both of them into the rocking chair. "No surprise. You're a Malfoy after all. We're going to have to change your name. Matthew Malfoy sounds pretty good, don't you think? Nice alliteration to it. Matt Malfoy. That sounds like a name for a Quidditch player. I don't know about the Dobby though. Your mum and I will have to talk about that. Maybe you should have some old family name. I'll have a walk through the portraits and see. And by the way, when you get older, if old Septimus Malfoy's portrait tells you something about eating pussy, it has nothing to do with a cat, all right? Not that I'm going to let you near any of those decrepit wankers ... "

Luna stood in the doorway under the disillusionment charm, watching as Draco prattled on to his son.

His mother had been right. He had just needed a shove in the right direction. And even though Luna was exhausted, she was glad she had listened and hadn't taken the Dreamless Sleep potion just yet.

She wouldn't have missed watching those precious moments between father and son for all the sleep in the world. She stepped backwards into the hallway, silently lifting the spell from herself. She stepped to the nursery door as if she had just arrived, allowing her shadow to fall across the room.

Draco looked up and gave her the first genuine smile, not a smirk, she had ever seen on his face.

"He's amazing, isn't he, Luna?" he said softly.

"He is." she agreed in a whisper.

She stepped closer to see that Matthew's eyes were almost closed. "Do you want me to take him?" she asked.

"Nah." Draco continued to rock their son. "If you would, can you fix his crib? He peed all over his sheets. I'll lay him down once his bed is dry."

Luna quickly changed the linens. Draco stood and pulled the nipple out of the baby's mouth. Matthew's eyes flew open with an indignant squawk. Draco chuckled and gave the bottle back for a few minutes until the little jaw stopped working and the infant's breathing was steady and even.

Draco laid his child in the crib, standing beside the rail for a moment, just watching Matthew sleep. Luna glided up beside him and laid her hand over his.

"Thank you, for taking care of him for me." she smiled up at Draco.

"I think I want to help with him more." Draco told her, still watching the baby.

She nodded. "I think that would be wonderful."

He turned to look at her, realizing that if it weren't for this woman standing beside him, he would be in Azkaban at the moment. She had given him a chance.

Maybe he should give her one too.


End file.
